remembrance
by enchanteuse
Summary: au. love isn't perfect. it isn't a fairytale or a storybook. and it doesn't always come easy. love is overcoming obstacles, facing challenges, fighting to be together, holding on and never letting go. it is a short word, easy to spell, difficult to define


**summary:** love isn't perfect. it isn't a fairytale or a storybook. and it doesn't always come easy. love is overcoming obstacles, facing challenges, fighting to be together, holding on and never letting go. it is a short word, easy to spell, difficult to define, and impossible to live without.

**author's note: **just so everyone knows, this is _not _your typical love story. this comes with plot twists and even supernatural ideas. this is not edited, by the way, so there might be spelling and grammatical errors. i'll edit later. please enjoy reading! this took me a few days to write because i did not know how to write out my ideas.

**disclaimer: **i do not own the characters or any quotes that i happen to use in this story.

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**.:remembrance:.**

massiederrick

Today was going to be different. I could feel it. It wasn't the fact that today was the first day of school, or I've been waiting fifteen minutes outside after the time Cam agreed to pick me up. There was something strange in the air.

Or maybe I was just being ridiculous.

I heard the sound of tires screeching and looked around the corner of the street. Sure enough, Cam's familiar bright red Porsche was speeding down the pavement. He pulled up in front of my house and I hurried to the side of his car, swinging my school bag inside, and jumping into the hot leather passenger seat.

"Way to be late on the first day of school," I said, tucking a few strands of hair away from my face.

He looked at me and smiled, his blue and green eyes hidden underneath his black Ray-Ban sunglasses. "Mass," he said calmly. "It'll be fine. The teachers won't even care." He leaned back, the sunlight shining through the window glistening off his midnight black hair. He looked like a model from those summer magazine catalogs; the light colors of his blue and white striped polo shirt and khaki shorts he wore intensified his golden tan from his outdoor soccer practices.

"Easy for you to say. Not all of us have gym first," I pointed out. "Your teacher might not care if you're late, but mine will."

He shrugged and turned to look at me again. "Why didn't you straighten your hair today?"

Unsurprised by his question, I said, "I like it this way." During the summer, I started to embrace my wavy hair. It's not like they were out of control. They were loose and flowing. The kind that people appreciated before the invention of the flat iron.

He semi-scowled and told me, "I like it straight. You look so young right now that you could pass off as a freshman."

The words stung.

I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down, kept my eyes on the road, and said, "If I had straightened my hair, we would be even later to school."

He reached over the gearshift to hold my hand. "I'm sorry, Mass. I meant it as a compliment. You look great with your hair straight."

I shrugged, looking out the window as my house disappeared and blended in with the other grand mansions. The early September leaves were still green. I soaked in the last days of summer, definitely not looking forward to the weather getting cold. Even though I have lived in Westchester my whole life, I still hated winter. I tried to stay inside as much as possible; there was no use for me to go outside and freeze my butt off.

Cam stopped at a red light and reached over to turn on the radio. The sound of a loud, horrible rap song filled the car, making my ears hurt every time the bass struck a chord. The old man in the shabby Jeep next to us glared and stuck out his middle finger before rolling up the windows.

"When did you start listening to this kind of music?" I asked, lowering the volume.

"During the summer. Some guys on the soccer team got me into it." He grabbed his iPod out of his pocket and handed it to me. "Check it out. It's pretty good."

I scrolled through his songs, uninterested, before giving it back to him. "Sounds really interesting."

"I know, right?" he said, driving into the parking lot of Briarwood Octavian Country Day. He drove past a variety of cars – from BMW's to Ferrari's, and even the occasional Volkswagen and Jeep – and pulled up next to the stairs leading into the main building.

"How about I drop you off here so you won't be late?" he said. His eyes were covered by his dark sunglasses so I couldn't tell if he meant it or was irritated I gave him a hard time earlier.

"Thanks." I smiled, hoping that it came off as genuine and not fake. I grabbed my bag and hopped out of the car, then turned around to look at him. "See you in French!"

The Porsche screeched against the pavement as Cam drove back into the parking lot. I ran up the steps, flinging the door open, and sprinted down the hall to my AP United States History class. Not wanted to draw any attention to myself, I slid inside.

"Just in time, Massie," said Mr. Myner, whipping his head in my direction. His dark brown hair was slicked back, and he wore a white collared shirt and khaki pants. He nodded to me, indicating for me to find a seat and sit down.

I spotted Dylan sitting at the end of a rectangular-shaped table, facing the panel of windows on the far right side of the classroom. Her long vivid red hair flowed down her back, accentuating her lavender crop top, which was paired with a white tank top and a black skater skirt and was offset by a dark blue statement necklace. If I hadn't known, it looked like she just threw her outfit on with no thought. No one would have ever guessed that she stayed up all night talking to me, deciding on the perfect outfit for the first day of school. I sat down next to her and immediately became self conscious. My dark wash jeans and purple tank top looked plain in comparison to her clothes.

"I never would have thought that _Massie Block _would be late to school – especially on the first day," she snickered, keeping her voice in a whisper.

"It's not my fault," I retaliated. "Cam was late picking me up.

I knew that being late was nothing worth complaining about, but, to be honest, I felt like my relationship with Cam was changing – in a bad way. He was always with his varsity soccer friends and I felt like he was pushing me to the side. He tried introducing me to his friends' girlfriends, but all they did was sit around and watch their boyfriend's play soccer.

I didn't realize I was lost in my thoughts until the opening of the door brought my mind back to focus. I was curious; who else would risk being late to school on the first day?

The moment my amber eyes met his chocolate brown eyes, the whole class faded into the background. My heart was beating faster than the normal rate, and I caught my breath as I took in the very familiar boy that I just couldn't place in my mind. His dirty blonde hair was styled so his it was in a mini faux-hawk, but I had the image of his hair being longer, with no gel. His dark blue jeans, black shirt, and black leather jacket seemed unreasonable for the summer weather, but I somehow couldn't picture him in anything else but that.

He jerked his gaze away from me and scanned the classroom, instantly breaking the spell between us. Realizing I was staring at him longer than everyone else, I looked down and examined my chipped nude nails, thinking about where I had seen this boy before, but nothing clicked in my mind.

"You must be Derrick Harrington," Mr. Myner stated the very familiar name.

He leaned against the frame of the door and crossed his arms. "That's my name. Don't wear it out."

Mr. Myner ignored his attitude and gestured to the seat next to me. "Please take a sit next to Massie."

Not wanting to be caught staring, I leaned down to my bag and grabbed a pen, trying my best to ignore my heart beating a mile a minute, faster each time he got closer. I was extremely aware of his movements and I had a hard time not reacting to him sitting down next to me.

I adjusted my chair so that I was facing Dylan, wanting to see her reaction to him. She was twirling a piece of her hair and she bit her lip in a way that she thought was seductive. Her eyes looked determined, but when Derrick didn't notice her, its shine dulled a little bit.

I focused on the paper in front of me, tapping my pen on the desk in hope that I looked like I was in deep concentration. But, it was impossible to forget that Derrick was sitting so close to me. My eyes kept drifting towards him, so I put down my pen and gathered my hair to the side to block him from my line of sight.

Before I knew what was happening, the pen rolled off of the table and onto the floor between us. I tried not to look at Derrick when I leaned down to pick it up. I was trying so hard to not acknowledge his presence that I didn't realize that he had also leaned down to get it until his fingers brushed against mine. Electricity sparked up my arm and my breathing became hitched as I looked into his dark brown eyes that held a crown of golden flecks in the center. Everyone in the classroom became a haze. It felt like I was in a dream and it was just the two of us.

The late bell rang, jolting me back to reality. I smiled and took the pen from him, making sure not to brush my hand against his. It was very tempting to look at him again, but I brought my hair to the side, re-creating the makeshift barrier between us. If I couldn't see him, maybe my strange attraction towards him would somehow go away.

I reminded myself that despite his recent change in attitude, Cam was still my boyfriend. Dylan was always gushing over how perfect we were together. My mom and his mom were best friends, and sometimes I wondered if they were already planning our wedding. It still took a great amount of effort and concentration to not look at Derrick again.

The bell indicated the end of first period, and the only thing I could think about was getting out of the room so I could gather my thoughts. The best thing to do was ignore Derrick, but it was nearly impossible when I felt the energy coming off of his skin, making my heart thud in my chest as he slowly gathered his books beside me. I rushed out of the door, glad to be amongst the hurry students in the hallway going to their next class.

"Massie!" Dylan called from behind me, making me stop in the hallway. "Wait for me!" We were both going to the language wing since I had French class next period and she had Spanish class. Apparently, I was so caught up in thinking about Derrick that I had forgotten to wait for her and dashed out of the room before she had a chance to catch up with me. She bounced up to me, holding her books to her chest, and her eyes shining with eagerness, and asked, "So, how hot is Derrick?"

I nodded and smiled a little bit, hoping that she would continue talking so I wouldn't have to reply. I didn't need Dylan thinking I was interested in him.

She leaned closer to me and her voice became a whisper. "He moved here a few days ago from Beverly Hills." She quickly looked behind her to make sure no one else was listening. "He lives in Hastings. I heard some people gossiping about him before you got here this morning."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. The biggest, most intricate houses in Westchester were in Scarsdale —the people who lived there were so rich that they didn't even need to work.

Wondering why someone would want to move from Beverly Hills to Westchester, I asked, "Why would they move here?"

"I don't know," she said, her eyes widening with excitement. "But I'm going to find out."

"You do that." I laughed, doing my best to pretend not to care, despite the fact that I hadn't stopped thinking about Derrick since leaving the classroom. "But we have to get to class. Meet you in the cafeteria for lunch?"

She grinned and stopped in front of the Spanish room. "Sounds good," she said, glancing at something down the hallway before looking back over at me. "I'll let you know what I discover."

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**author's note: **so how'd i do? 7 reviews for an update, please.

**question of the day: **summer or winter?

xx cat


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